, 1887-09-17
TO the sky, across which CREST spires Of

Peter stopped at the first house of the
village and kicking at the doors called
for assistance.
The streets were deserted; many per.
SONS had fed that morning after a fray
in which about twenty men had been
either killed or wounded. Those who
remained had barricaded their doors and
pretended not to hear.
The miserable man was bitterly weep
ing; he seemed to hear the death rattle in
the throat of his brother, who was still
losing a great deal of blood. Just as
Peter felt his strength giving way, on
turning a corner, he saw a good sized
building, through the half opened door
of which a dim light was streaming. He
entered it.
1t was a large unfinished and unfur-
nished schoolroom, with whitewashed
walls reeking with dampness. All the
killed and wounded in the morning fray
had been taken there pell-mell.
About twenty human bodies were
stretched out on a pallet of straw. ALI
the faces seemed 30 CHASTITY under the
dim light of the two coal oil lamps that it
was hard to distinguish the lead from the
dying.
A physician and two sisters of charity
were going and coming, dressing the
wounds, and reviving the spirits of the
wounded with words of comfort.
They hurried to the wounded man
brought in by Peter, fixing. a place for
him on he straw. AS one of the sisters
had brought a lamp, the childish face of
poor John seemed livid. His dull eyes
were half closed, and his lips were COW
cred with blood iecked foam.
The doctor ripped his coat and shirt,
exposing his fair white skin to view.
The shape of his body seemed SO youth
full, SO delicate, hat it was painful to
see him thus uncovered, a gaping wound
in his side.
At first Peter had drawn near, holding
his breath, his eyes wandering from the
wounded man to the doctor, scanning the
latter's face as if he wished to read there.
in advance, the decision about to be pro-
nounced. But when, by means of the
dim lamplight, the miserable man per-
ceived the bruised flesh of his brother, he
gave a moaning cry and dropped to the
floor, sobbing in the most heart rending
amer A word from the doctor nearly
crazed him:
1.-The wound in the leg is nothing"
said he; "'tis simply a fracture; but the
wound in the side is very dangerous"
W. ptlllhDoy III DlOGlltI was BOllB W
die, and it would be he that had killed
him.
He sprang to his feet, exclaiming:
" 'Tis not true, is it? 1t is not possible
that p
He stopped short, terrified. Not that he
feared being arrested if he betrayed him
self. God knows, he cared but little for
that! What he objected to was to be
taken away, to be separated from his
brother, and that others should be at his
side, while he would be far, far away.
He smothered the avowal that scorched
his very lips, so deep seated was the hor-
ror with which he looked Upon himself.
and when they questioned him, he found
courage enough to lie.
He said he had found his brother, lying
wounded by the roadside, and had car
ried him there; that was really all he
knew about it. And as the doctor looked
at him, he sat down, and hid his face in
his hands, fearing that bis crime would
be discovered in his eyes.
John became more quiet. He had not
recovered consciousness, but, as he no
longer moaned, the dressing of his wound
had doubtless afforded him relief.
The physician and the sisters withdrew,
going to other sufferers, leaving John
alone at the side of his brother.
He had seated himself on the straw,
watching the least movement, catching
the feeblest sigh, awaiting with untold
agony the first symptoms of returning
life.
From time to time he would lean over,
clasping his rough hands together as he
had not done for many a day, muttering
fragments of prayer that he had long
thought forgotten, and, when words
failed him, when he no longer knew what
to say, he would exclaim: "Ohl brother,
brother, say that you forgive mel"
Since a little while John has been get
ting restless. He seemed to be trying to
get up. His features became contracted
as if he were making strenuous efforts,
and he murmured words, the meaning
of which his brother vainly tried to under
stand. The frightened workman called the
doctor, who knit his brows as he passed
his arms around the wounded man and
gently raised him up. This afforded a
slight relief, but soon the choking re-
turned.
The physician shrugged his shoulders
in a way that plainly intimated that there
was no more hope. One of the sisters
knelt down and prayed in a low tone.
All at once, the poor soldier, uttering a
hoarse cry, shuddered ~convulsively. His
eyes became glazed. He was dead.
Peter felt that he was losing his senses;
he could not believe that all was over.
He lay down at his brothers side, draw
ing nearer and nearer, and with fixed
look and trembling lips, he still MUIR
INJURED mechanically:
John, say that you forgive nell
Then, as the doctor attempted to spread
a blanket over the body, the workman
stopped him, and, raising his head, he
said, in a voice that had nothing human
in it, "Let him be. He is my brother,
you know, and it was 1 who killed him."
"He is d~elirious, "murmured the sister.
Peter added softly:
ayes, twas /. You may believe me,
and send for the gendarmes. Now that
he is dead, l don't mind being taken
away. Go ahead. 1 shall await them
here. Emil Roustan. Translated for
The Times-D Democrat.
Poisoning by Nutmeg.